The Show Must Go On
by beautifulimmortal
Summary: Callie Taylor, the troublesome and vivacious goddaughter of Will Schuester, has come to stay with her godfather after a few altercations. Now, faced with joining the New Directions, she must face her past and rediscover her long lost love of music as well as friendship and even first love. O/C.
1. Chapter 1

After a long day at William McKinley High, Will Schuester enters his apartment and, dropping his bag and things to one side, proceeds into the living room where he heaves a deep sigh and falls upon the sofa. He had had a long and tiring day – if being a teacher at the school was tiring enough, he now had Glee Club to worry about. He had taken the group and the responsibilities on without a second thought; once or twice, he had thought about taking time away from Glee, but something had always happened that had brought him back to the New Directions. They were his priority; these young minds and talents needed to be moulded and shaped for the future.

He thinks of his kids in Glee and of each of the traits and talents they possessed. Rachel, the self-proclaimed star, has a talent as big as her determination to be a star, but underneath that lay insecurities about her looks, her friends. Finn, as the star quarterback, is a born leader and has to juggle both football and Glee, something Will knows took an awful lot of commitment. Kurt and Mercedes, two peas in a pod, with plenty of talent and sass to spare. Artie and Tina, original members, stars waiting for their moment to shine. Puck, the stereotypical bad boy with a eye for any woman who gave him a second glance or listened to a song on his guitar. Sam and Mike, talented on the football field and in the choir room. Quinn, Santana and Brittany, Cheerios who were joined at the hip but each with their own unique musical ability that Will could not help but admire. Blaine, the newest of the group and a former member of the Dalton Academy Warblers who had selflessly moved schools and choirs to be with his boyfriend.

Will smiles to himself. These are _his_ kids. He had given them advice in times of sadness and anger, he had helped them through difficult times. They would stick together through everything and anything.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Will frowns and looks back at the door where the noise had stimulated. He waits for a few seconds, hoping that it was just another salesman knocking about some new purchases who would give up after a few attempts. However, the noise comes again, louder and more rapid.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Groaning to himself, he rises from his seat and goes to the door, closing his eyes and breathing in and out deeply before opening the door.

Standing there, surrounded by five large bags, is a girl of sixteen with long dark hair that looks a shade of midnight black in the dim light of the hall. She is pale with round green eyes that are lined on top with black liquid eyeliner. She is wearing a simple combination of a pair of worn jeans and a band t-shirt as well as black military boots. Adorned on her wrists are an assortment of bangles and bracelets; her fingers carry a few rings on each hand and each chipped nail is painted a deep burgundy. Those eyes of hers which are almost electric lock with his and he feels himself gasp and take an involuntary step back into his apartment as memories flood back to him, replaying before his eyes ...

* * *

'_Uncle Will!' cried a voice, just barely as he had caught his breath after entering the house. _

_Will smiled and was greeted by a lively six year old girl with long dark hair and electric green eyes, who ran up to him with all the vivacity and dynamism of childhood. He scooped up the child in his arms and spun her round so that she giggled with glee. After a couple of turns, he set her back on the ground and bent down so that he was eye-level with the grinning girl whose dark curls bounced with every word she spoke._

'_Uncle Will,' she said, exuberantly trying to get every word out as quickly as she possibly could. 'I've been practising and practising for my piano recital and I think I'm ready. You _have _to come hear!'_

_She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room of the house where a piano lay in wait, the ivories gleaming in wait as she set herself down at the stool and lightly set her tiny fingers on the keys. Soon enough, the music began, a beautiful and enchanting melody that Will could not help but hum along with. With each note, Will moved forward and watched the little girl as she played her song. Her eyes were fixed on the keys the majority of the time, but occasionally, her eyes would close to soak up the music, the flow of rhythm through her fingers to the rest of her body. Music was her life, however short it was and however long left. Music was, and always would be, the driving force behind the girl and all she would do in her life. _

'_She's good, Greg,' Will whispered so as not to disturb the song as a man walked in, his worn and weathered face brightening as his ears soaked up the melody. 'She's really good.'_

'_Well, I did teach her everything she knows, cuz,' he laughed and his eyes closed like his daughter's as the music continued, ending sooner than Will would have liked, but with a smile on the girl's face that could easily brighten up anyone's day._

* * *

'Will ... '

It takes her a few attempts to reach her uncle who is drifting away with his long-forgotten memories, but he finally comes to his senses and stares at her. She is the little girl, only now she isn't so little. She must be about fifteen, sixteen years old. She is not a child anymore and she certainly is not the child he remembers so gleefully showing him her newly learned concerto or dance routine.

'Aren't you gonna invite me in?' she huffs. 'I've lugged these bags up God knows how many flights of stairs and I'm pretty sure my arm's about to get pulled out of his socket any minute now.'

Still stunned into silence, Will nods and pushes the door for her to wander in. He goes to get some of her bags, but she insists that she can do it, throwing them into the living room carelessly, before taking in her surroundings, her eyes scanning every inch of the apartment, now under a teenage scrutiny.

'Nice,' she remarks. 'It's different to the last time I came.'

'Well, considering you were nearly eight the last time you came here, I would hope so,' Will says, finally finding his words. 'Callie, is that really you?'

'Of course it's me,' she says, rolling her eyes dramatically. 'Duh. Honestly, Will, I hope you don't just let random people waltz into your apartment off the street.'

'You've ... changed.'

The girl, Callie, turns back to look at him with a judgemental look. 'I see you've not. Still sticking with the vests, I see.'

'Yeah,' he chuckles. 'Callie, it's good to see you. It's been so long.'

She pauses for a second and throws him a look that hints at sadness and a longing for something, but for what? Family? Friends? Answers that he alone could give?

'Yeah, it has,' she murmurs before coughing to cover up the change in subject. 'So where's Aunt Terri then?'

'She's not here. We ... we got a divorce about five months ago.'

Callie sighs in obvious relief and a grin tugs at her lips. 'Oh, thank _God_. You know, I never could stand that ... that woman. Urgh, she drove me crazy. And you had to live with all that crazy.'

Will laughs shortly to himself and looks at her, his arms folded, a closed expression on his face. 'Callie, what are you doing here?'

'What? Can't a girl take some time to come and spend some quality time with her dear old godfather?'

'Certainly, but we haven't seen each other in a good few years so there must be another reason. What would that be, Callie?'

Callie takes a deep sigh and looks at her godfather with indifference, shrugging her shoulders as she says, 'I got kicked out of my aunt and uncle's.'

Will is surprised. From what he remembers of his goddaughter, she was a well-mannered and well-behaved young girl. She had never dressed like this; he fondly recalls her penchant for bright colours, reds, blues, yellows and so many others. She is not the girl he remembered. He barely recognizes her at all.

'You got kicked out?'

She nods as though she has just announced the day's weather conditions. 'Yep, about two days ago. They told me that they'd had enough of me and sent me off.'

'Well, what does your mom think of this?' he asks, shocked at this statement.

'She sent me there in the first place,' she murmurs bitterly. 'And they sent me here. It's a chain, you see. A chain of people who can't put up with me and all the trouble I am ... people who don't want me.'

She looks away in sadness and fixes her eyes on the wall in front of her as though this is punishment for her eyes to prevent them from crying. Will looks at his goddaughter with a saddened look, but his brain is shouting questions at him frantically. Did that mean she is to stay with him? What is he going to do with her? What about her mother? What is the reason for all this moving around?

'Callie ... ' he murmurs and goes up to her. 'If you so wish, you can stay here for a while. But I kinda need an explanation as to what on earth's going on with your mom and your aunt and uncle.'

Callie pauses for a moment and reaches into her bag, feeling around for something before finding a letter, crumpled and torn as though it has been shoved in that bag and removed to be looked at more than a few times. She hands it to her godfather who does not spare a glance at the letter and instead stares at her, conflicted and not knowing what he should do. Finally, he conjures up the words he needs to say to her.

'Go to the spare room. First door on your right. Put your stuff there for now. I'll speak to you in a moment.'

She nods and swiftly makes her way to the room without another word in reply. Once he hears a door close, he makes his way to a sofa and sits down, the letter in his right hand, his eyes waiting to glimpse the words written on the page. He recognizes the writing to be that of Charlotte, the wife of his cousin David. It is addressed to her sister, but he knows that the name is only written in as a substitute; Charlotte must have known that her daughter would not stay there for very long. It should say 'To whom it may concern'. He inhales deeply before beginning the letter about his goddaughter, the letter containing the answers he needs to be answered.

_I am sorry to do this, but I am sending Callie to stay with you. I understand that this is difficult and believe me, I have exercised every possible situation here. I think that staying with you may be just the thing she needs in order to change. I cannot control her any more. I do not know what to do anymore._

_She has been thrown out of three schools in eight months. I have tried many others, but one look at her record and they're already shoving us out of the door. She drinks, she stays out until all hours and she's made friends with the wrong people, people I know have influenced her behaviour. Every day, I see a little bit of my girl slipping away. It's as if I don't know her any more._

_The situation with her father has become terrible. She has not seen him in years and we do not bring him up in conversation at all. She has not mentioned him since the day he left when she was eight. I've always known that this has been some reason behind her behaviour._

_The most heartbreaking thing is that she has completely lost her love of music. She used to be so talented. She was a singer, she could play a variety of instruments. These days, she won't go near them or touch them. She barely even hums. She is without the very thing on which she used to thrive._

_The truth is I miss my little girl. I don't even know her anymore. I hope that after this, she will return to me. _

* * *

The spare room is much bigger than my last room, at my aunt and uncle's, almost twice the size. Their oldest child, my cousin, had gone off to college last fall and they had a room to spare; it was dark and dismal. Think Harry Potter's cupboard under the stairs with a few more spiders and a window.

I dump the bags on the bed, marking my territory in a way, before sitting on the edge of the bed, my palms pressed against the soft sheets, my fingertips soaking the new touches. I breathe in the scent of the room – sweet, perfumed, almost sickly. My eyes scan the room with quick, even glances, gathering up information about every inch of this place. The walls are a soft white, obviously the colour of a spare room; it does not define the owner because there probably has never been one. The bed is simple and pushed against a small window that looks out onto something I can't be bothered to see right now. There is a wardrobe and a large mirror that shows my reflection. I do not look there. I am not vain as some people at my last school thought.

I curse as the thought leaves my mind and is replaced by another. _School_. Will is obviously not going to let me just skip school – he is a teacher after all. Maybe this would be time to drop the bombshell that I've been kicked out of three schools, for various reasons. The first was for skipping; I couldn't bear the teachers or the students so I found other things to do with my time, things that my mother thought were not fit for between nine and three. Next home, next school. I was thrown out for fighting. Come to think of it, that was the same reason as the last school. Although I had good reason and the girl who I whacked threw in some good punches too, I was packed off and sent here to stay with my godfather.

What did my mom want me to do after this one? It was inevitable that I would be cast out of here too. Soon, no school – or home – in Lima would have me. Maybe then, back to Mom ...

No.

I can't think like that. I have to stay positive.

I punched the girl at my last school in the face because she took a swing at me. Verbally and then physically. She told me that no one would ever want me, that my mom didn't love me and neither had my dad. That, she said, was the reason he'd walked out on us. She stopped speaking then when my fist came at her face.

I didn't mean to. I got defensive. My mom may have shipped me to various relatives across the state, but I had to defend her.

It was all my fault. All of it. I'm too sarcastic, too defensive, too damn bitter.

I need a fresh start.

I have issues. There is no denying that. Maybe this time, for the first time, things will be different.

'Callie?' calls Will from the living room.

I take a breath and, fiddling with one of my rings, open the door, walking to where he is waiting. My mom's letter in his hand, the other resting on his leg, he looks at me with a mix of sadness and ... disappointment?

'Sit down, sweetie,' he says.

Sweetie. That's always a bad sign. Everyone always uses pet names when they're about to say something big. I've heard the lot. Honey, baby, darling, even the sickening 'precious'.

I do as he says and sit on the couch facing him. My knees together, my hands clasped and resting on them, I watch him in anticipation, waiting for him to offer to put my bags in his car and drop me off at the nearest bus station.

'I read this,' he says, referring to the letter by raising his hand an inch or two. 'From your mom. Is it true?'

'Is what true?' I say.

'That you got kicked out of three schools?' he says as though he still can't believe it.

I nod, feeling ashamed, but I put on my bravado. My acting face. I can't afford to be pitied.

'Yeah. For skipping and fighting.'

Will repeats, 'Fighting?' and tuts to himself, shaking his head, running his free hand through his curly hair.

'I'll get my stuff then,' I say, sensing the words floating around in the air.

'What?' he asks.

'My stuff,' I repeat. 'I'll get it and you can give me a ride to whichever mode of transport is easier.'

Will looks at me incredulously. 'Why would I throw you out?'

'It's what everyone else has done,' I shrug.

Will reaches across the table between us and lightly touches my hand. A fleeting gesture of affection. I haven't had one in a while so I flinch and recoil from the touch. Not because I don't want it. It's been so long. I'm used to shouting matches and slamming doors, not kind words and heartfelt deeds.

'I won't throw you out,' he says, almost like a promise, a vow.

A corner of my mouth tugs at a smile and I stare at my godfather. I may have changed like I said, but he is still the guy I remember.

'But we're going to have to do something about school.'

I groan then and lean against the back of the couch, rolling my eyes. 'School and I don't exactly see eye to eye, Will.'

'Since when did you start calling me Will?' he asks curiously. 'You've dropped the 'uncle'.'

'It's not as if I've seen you everyday and known you enough to call you 'uncle', though, is it?'

Will nods as if he agrees somewhat and continues. 'You're good, Callie. You could have aced all of your classes if ... '

I finish his sentence. 'If I hadn't spent so much time getting kicked out of them.'

'Right,' he says. 'I could always talk to Principal Figgins at McKinley, see if we can arrange something.'

I feel something I haven't felt in a while. Hope. A shimmer of hope that hasn't passed through me in such a long time.

'Okay,' I murmur. 'What about my track record? Not exactly the model student, am I?'

'That's for me to deal with,' Will says. 'All I need you to do is hold up your end of the deal.'

'Deal?' I say the foreign word.

He takes a breath and begins, 'Here's what is going to happen. You'll stay here with me, see how that goes. Any trouble and ... '

I wait for the part about throwing me out, but it doesn't happen. It isn't even mentioned.

' ... we may have to have a talk. Okay?'

'Okay. Anything else?'

'Yeah, there is. I want good grades from you, a spotless attendance record and enthusiasm. Do you think you could manage that?'

'You get me into that school of yours and I'll be there for more hours than any teacher or student combined.'

He grins. 'And there is one more thing. Your mother mentioned something about you not wanting to do music anymore ... why?'

I freeze, stiffen. My hands clasp even tighter together and my teeth grind against each other. I look at him with a steely gaze.

'I still listen to music,' I whisper almost incoherently. 'I just ... '

'Your mom says that you don't sing anymore. You won't go near a piano or a guitar. Why, Callie?'

'Because I don't want to. And I don't want to talk about it either.'

'Why not?' he persists. 'There must be some reason. You used to love music.'

'That's the operative phrase though,' I snap. 'I _used to _love music. Past tense. It's in the past.'

'Callie, please,' he continues, not knowing that he is wandering into dangerous territory. 'Music was like fresh air to you. You loved singing and dancing and anything to do with music. Why not now?'

'Because.' I finish ultimately and stomp off in the direction of the spare room, now _my _room.

'Callie!' Will calls after me, but he is ignored as the door slams shut.

Angrily, fuming with rage, I rummage through my bag for my iPod and all but slam the earphones into my ears. I flick through my songs and find my vast collection of Queen songs. My favourite band. I hear Freddie's voice and I feel at ease. It seems at times that only he understands me. His music speaks to me on such levels that no other person can. I lie on the bed and close my eyes, allowing my idol's voice to fill my head with dreamy melody and beautiful words.

_She's a Killer Queen  
Gunpowder, gelatine  
Dynamite with a laser beam  
Guaranteed to blow your mind  
Anytime_

I glance back at the door, Freddie's melodies accompanying the turn of my eyes to the wooden surface. It isn't Will's fault. He should know why I hate music. I can sing pretty well. I taught myself to play piano and guitar. But now, I can't bear to do anything. My lips only form the words of the song in my ears, but my voice has been stopped. There is no real sound. Only a whisper.

It is too painful. Memories. All of it.

I answer Will's question to myself, rolling back so that my eyes are turned to the ceiling.

'Because it reminds me of him,' I say, tears filling my eyes.

A face flashes of my father showing me how to approach singing one of the songs heard on the radio. Picking me up after rehearsals for the school play. Buying me my first guitar. Playing with me.

Then, they turn dark.

Shouting. Fighting. Finally, there's the ...

Leaving. Abandonment.

I throw a fleeting glance at myself in the ornate mirror. Callie Taylor, the teenage tragedy whose father abandoned her as a child and destroyed her love of music, set to the music and lyrics of one Freddie Mercury.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, I sit outside the office of Principal Figgins whilst my godfather is inside. I'm not allowed in right now. I have to wait my turn. Principal Figgins said that he wanted to speak with Will, my new guardian, first and then to me. So now I must wait here.

I fiddle with one of my bracelets, a nervous tick of mine, and glance around the room. The receptionist eyes me suspiciously but she is more interested in the phone conversation she is having at this moment in time. She raises her eyebrows at my appearance, looking me up and down once or twice, making up her mind and judging me silently before returning back to her sister in Milwaukee who has just lost three pounds on a totally crazy diet, apparently.

The passing students can see me through the panes of transparent glass that separate the halls from the office. Their stares, their whispers, make me even more nervous. I ignore them and look at my iPod. I can't listen to music right now. I can't. I look at my wallpaper which is a picture of Freddie in his glory, in the infamous yellow jacket from Wembley, London in the eighties. He gives me courage. I think of Freddie, my idol, my beloved icon. What would he do? What would Freddie do?

'You can come in now,' the receptionist tells me snidely, still judging me.

I throw her a look that shows that I know what she's doing and she gasps, going back to her phone and complain to her sister. Slowly and steadily, I walk through the door, one step at a time. An empty chair waits for me on the right of Will who watches me eagerly as I walk to it and sit down. I find myself facing Principal Figgins who looks at a sheet of paper in front of him. I can see scrawls on the page amongst the typed words in red pen. It's my school record. Breathe in, I tell myself. Breathe out. Breathe in.

'Miss Taylor,' he begins, his eyes flickering back and forth between me and the page on his desk. 'Your record is ... shall we say, colourful?'

I grit my teeth together and glance at my godfather, a pleading look in my eyes. Without even my hint, he goes back to Figgins, his hand gesturing to the page.

'Principal Figgins, this record does not present Callie in the best light.'

'She's been expelled from three schools, William,' he says. 'I'm fairly certain that she is far from being presented in the best start.'

'She got good grades, some would say excellent. With an opportunity such as this – '

'William,' Figgins stops him. 'You have put across a good case for your goddaughter, but I would much rather hear it straight from her.' His eyes fixed on me and I felt myself under a spotlight, all eyes on me. 'Now, Callie, what do you have to say to all this?'

I am one of the most talkative people I know. I always have the last word in any conversation or argument. But now it is a struggle to even make a sound. I give a few attempts before my mouth forms the words I need.

'I think ... I think that this could be a fresh start for me.'

'Hmmm,' he muses. 'And what do you have to say about your previous education? What can we do for you at McKinley that the other schools could not?'

I think for a moment and provide him with an answer. 'Something like a clean slate. I want this time to be different. A new beginning. A new direction.'

Something flashes in Will's eyes, the sign of an idea forming in his mind. He says nothing and allows Figgins to continue, saving what he has to say for later. Figgins looks at me pointedly and clasps his hands together, leaning across the desk to address me directly.

'Callie, your godfather has put up a fairly reasonable argument and I believe that you are indeed looking for a new beginning as you say.'

'So, does this mean I'm in?' I say, my hopes rising.

'Yes, it does,' he says and before I can say any kind of thanks, he looks at me, a finger raised. 'You get these grades Mr Schuester thinks you are capable of achieving and you keep your head down. I don't want any trouble from you. Do you understand?'

'Clear as crystal, Principal Figgins,' I smile, elatedly.

* * *

With a slight spring in my step, I walk out of the principal's office with my new class schedule in one hand and my godfather keeping in step next to me. He is silent as though he is contemplating asking me something; even if he does, there is only a slight chance that I'll actually listen. I'm too involved with what's going on around me.

The hallway is buzzing with activity, filled with students, each in a variety of colours. It feel like I'm in the middle of a rainbow; I have to blink my eyes in order to keep them used to the sights in front of me. As I walk past, eyes follow me, mouths form words and fingers point. I don't listen or take much notice of these. After three schools, you tend to forget about the stares and gossip you incur in your first walk down the hall.

'How are you feeling?' Will asks.

'Okay,' I answer truthfully. 'Thank you for this, Will.'

'Don't mention it,' he smiled.

'No, I'm serious. Thank you _so _much for all of this. For getting me in here, which was a miracle in itself, letting me stay at your place.'

'I actually need to speak to you about that because – '

'Well, look what the tumbleweed's just blown in,' says a sarcastic-laden voice from behind us. It comes to my attention that Will has exhaled deeply, closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Raising an eyebrow, I turn much more slowly than he does to glimpse the woman standing behind us. She is a middle-aged woman with blonde hair and dressed in a red track suit, her arms crossed, her blue eyes fixed in a glare on Will. Her mouth curves into a smile that somehow makes the cheerleaders that are here in the hall with us – Will told me these were the Cheerios, what a name – cower in fear and run for cover.

'Sue,' Will says in a tired voice as though he has been through this routine more times than he can count.

'William,' Sue greets him. 'I was just taking my daily stroll down the hall, counting how many students ran from me in fear or simply cowered against their lockers, but I couldn't resist not taking the opportunity to mock you and that ridiculous outfit you must have sleepily dragged together this very morning. Not to mention your hair makes you look like some kind of elf from Lord of the Rings.'

Will rolls his eyes and I stare at this woman. Wow. Her tongue is even more sharp and acidic than mine. It is then, as if on purpose, that her eyes wander onto me; she looks me up and down, a multitude of opinions and insults forming in her brain.

'And who, pray tell, is this?' she asks of my godfather.

'This is Callie Taylor,' he introduces me with a hint of fierce pride. 'She's our newest student.'

'Well, welcome to the school that crushes your dreams and turns you into a helpless loser,' she says and points to Will. 'And here we have a prime example.' Will grits his teeth once more and goes to say something, but Sue continues, acting like he isn't even there. 'So how did you end up under his wing? Not one new addition to the little suck-fest known here as _Glee club_?'

She says that phrase like it is some kind of disease, something she cannot stand. Will ignores her and looks at me, telling me with his eyes that he does not want to be here in this uncomfortable and frankly irritating situation.

'She's my goddaughter. My cousin's daughter.'

Sue looks at me again with a new expression. 'So ... you're a _Schuester_?'

'No, I'm a Taylor,' I answer for myself.

'Well, I'll be seeing you around, kid,' she says, nodding, before she moves along the hall, students parting like the Red Sea as she walks by them.

'Now, I have to ask,' I say as soon as she's out of earshot. 'Who the _hell _was that?'

'Sue Sylvester,' Will grunts. 'Coach of the Cheerios and number one enemy to all that is good about this world.'

'Right,' I nod as I follow Will to a classroom which he enters. I follow him inside and find myself in a large room with chairs at one end on a couple of raised steps. There are windows on the wall in front of me and in the middle of the room is a large piano. I stand awkwardly next to the piano and whilst Will goes into a little room on the right of the entrance we've just come through which I assume is his office, my fingers stretch out towards the ivory keys. They press down one, two, three keys. It makes a tune. A beautiful little melody. I then step back as though I've touched something red hot, as if I've been burned.

'Okay,' Will begins as he emerges from his office. 'Take a seat.'

I pick a seat at the front and sit myself down, placing my bag on the chair to my left. Will leans against the piano and folds his arms, his face falling serious. Uh-oh.

'I need to have a word with you,' he says.

'Here comes the talk,' I murmur.

'It's not really a talk,' he sidesteps my statement. 'It's just a ... deal.'

I raise one eyebrow and lean towards him, drawn by his words. 'What kind of a deal, Will?'

'Would you like to know what this room is used for?' he asks, diverting the topic for a moment, gesturing to the room with his open hands.

'Well, I'm guessing it's not gym,' I grin at him.

'No, it's not,' he chuckles. 'This room ... This room is used for Glee club.'

'Glee club?' I repeat the word. 'The one Coach Cheerful was talking about?'

'Yeah, I run it. The New Directions.'

'Will, not that this isn't thrilling and all, but what does this have to do with me?'

Will takes a breath and looks straight at me, locking me in eye contact. 'Callie, I have some conditions about you staying with me, if you recall.'

'Yeah, good grades and an angelic attitude. I remember those.'

'I also want to throw one more condition into the mix,' he says as though he is frightened of the reaction this could set off. 'I ... I want you to join Glee Club.'

* * *

I am rendered speechless. My mouth drops open and my eyes stare at Will, not blinking for more seconds than is humanly necessary. Will watches me with the manner of a lion tamer towards a ferocious female lion. I do not know what to do first – scream or pounce.

'No,' I manage to croak out.

'Now, now, before you say that, hear me out.'

'No, no, no, no, no and, just for you and you alone, _no way in hell_,' I growl, standing now.

Will sighs and tries a different approach. 'Look, I want you to have the best life I can offer you here. Being in Glee club has helped a lot of kids overcome problems and difficult times – '

'Good for them!' I cry. 'Whoop de doo for those poor kids. But that won't work for me.'

'Why not?' he says, answering me back now with the same ferocity I have. 'You haven't even tried it! Give it a go. You might learn to love it.'

'_Loathe_ it, more like,' I correct him. 'Will, you know why I can't do this, why I can't ... love music.'

Will comes up to me and places his hands on my shoulders. 'I know what he did to you. Your dad made the biggest mistake of his life when he left you and your mom. But now, you have a chance to start over. That's what you said in Figgins' office. A new beginning.'

He's using my words against me. I huff and look away from him, fuming silently, my rage boiling over and waiting for a chance for me to explode.

'Look, the kids will be here in a minute for rehearsal. Just ... just give it a try,' he murmurs. 'For me. Maybe for yourself.'

I sigh heavily and resume my seat, folding my arms and shooting my godfather my angriest look. He sees this and almost ducks for cover just as a herd of teenagers enter the classroom. They all are dissolved in conversation which immediately stops as their eyes fall on me. Everyone is silent as they glance from me to Will, not knowing quite what to do.

'Mr Schue,' says a girl with long dark hair and a strange animal stitched onto her sweater. 'What's going on?'

'Take a seat, everyone,' he addresses the whole of them as they file in, whispering now, and take seats around me. Once everyone is settled, he smiles at me first and talks to them all. 'Hey, guys. As you can probably tell, we have a new student with us.'

'Is she lost?' asks one of the cheerleaders, a girl with black hair pulled into a ponytail and dark eyes narrowed at me.

'No, she's not,' Will chuckles. 'Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Callie Taylor, my goddaughter and the newest student here at McKinley.'

The students of the New Directions mumble their greetings and I throw daggers at my uncle who swiftly continues.

'Whilst she is staying with me and going to school here, I thought that it would be a good idea for her to join New Directions.'

There is a grumble in the room as they all voice their opinions, some louder than others. Finally, one voice alone stands out, the voice of the girl in the scary sweater.

'Mr Schue, although I find your thought touching, aren't you showing your goddaughter special privileges?'

'What do you mean by that, Rachel?' Will asks confused.

'What she means is,' says one of the other cheerleaders, a beautiful blonde girl with a cross at her neck and lovely eyes, 'that everyone here auditioned to be here. We all got in because of our talents – '

' – not who we're related to,' the snarky first cheerleader says, looking at me.

'Rachel, Quinn and Santana do have a point, Mr Schue,' asks another girl whose name, Mercedes, is displayed for all to see on a gold necklace. 'It should be fair. She should sing.'

Will nods and gestures to the front at me. 'You're right, guys. My apologies. Callie, would you like to say a few words to the group?'

'Will, I can't,' I say, but I sense eyes boring into me and have no choice but to stand up in front of these people.

I take a deep breath and look at each of them in turn before beginning. 'Hi. So ... my name's Callie. You don't really need to know that lot about me, but what you need to know is that I'm not going to sing for you.'

I glance at my godfather sadly. 'I'm sorry, Will, but I can't ... I can't do this.'

'Try,' says a voice that stops me altogether. It comes from a young boy with black hair and wearing a bowtie. He smiles at me helpfully and nudges the boy next to him. 'Think of a song and sing. It's not hard. It's fun.'

'Thanks,' I say. 'But music ... music hurts ... '

There is silence for a moment before the boy gets out of his seat and comes up to me, a helpful smile on his face. He takes my hands in his and makes me look at him directly. I like this boy. He seems nice, friendly.

'Look, music can hurt, but it can make us happy. That's why it's called Glee club. Just have a go. If it helps, look at me, don't look at any of the others. I'm Blaine, by the way.'

'Thanks, Blaine,' I whisper as he goes back to his seat. I inhale, exhale deeply before whispering a song into the piano player's ear who then passes the message onto the band. As they are doing so, I go back to the class and keep an eye on Blaine who is encouraging to say the least.

'Although I don't particularly like the artist, I think that this song can speak volumes about my attitude to the world. You guys in Glee need to learn about me before you accept me. The whole truth if you will. I can't be changed. I can't be saved. And I can't be tamed.'

I nod at the piano player and he sets off the chain of music. An electric guitar and drums pick up the beat as the familiar music starts. My toe taps and I open my mouth to find the words. Surprisingly, they come easily to mind and before I know it, I'm singing. For the first time in years. I'm _singing_.

_For those who don't know me  
I can get a bit crazy  
Have to get my way, yep  
24 hours a day 'cause I'm hot like that_

_Every guy, everywhere_  
_Just gives me mad attention_  
_Like I'm under inspection_  
_I always gets a ten 'cause I'm built like that_

_I go through guys like money flyin' out the hands_  
_They try to change me but they realize they can't_  
_And every tomorrow is a day I never plan_  
_If you gonna be my man understand_

_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be blamed_  
_I can't, can't, I can't, can't be tamed_

_I can't be changed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be, can't, I can't be tamed_

_If there is a question about my intentions_  
_I'll tell ya, I'm not here to sell ya_  
_Or tell you to go to hell_  
_(I'm not a brat like that)_

_I'm like a puzzle_  
_But all of my pieces are jagged_  
_If you can understand this_  
_We can make some magic, I'm on like that_

_I wanna fly, I wanna drive, I wanna go_  
_I wanna be a part of something I don't know_  
_And if you try to hold me back, I might explode_  
_Baby, by now you should know_

_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be blamed_  
_I can't, can't, I can't, can't be tamed_

_I can't be changed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be, can't, I can't be tamed_

_Well I'm not a trick you play_  
_I'm wired a different way_  
_I'm not a mistake, I'm not a fake_  
_It's set in my DNA_

_Don't change me_  
_Don't change me_  
_Don't change me_  
_Don't change me_  
_(I can't be tamed)_

_I wanna fly, I wanna drive, I wanna go_  
_I wanna be a part of something I don't know_  
_And if you try to hold me back I might explode_  
_Baby, by now you should know_

_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be blamed_  
_I can't, can't, I can't, can't be tamed_

_I can't be changed_  
_I can't be tamed_  
_I can't be, can't, I can't be tamed_

With that, the song ends. I have never felt more alive. Every note I hit was perfect. Every step was faultless. I breathe deeply, trying to catch my breath. The Glee club watch me in amazement as though they would have never expected something like that. Rapturous applause follows and Will claps hardest, laughing.

'So, guys, what do you think? Does she make the cut?'

'Yeah!' 'Hell yeah!' and 'Of course!' answer his question as a sea of smiles make their way across the faces of the Glee club. I smile back at them. It's finally been made clear to me.

Music can help me.

Then, I remember. I think of what my dad used to say to me after every performance. How he used to smile as they do now. How he applauded loudest and hardest, cheering me on.

It still hurts, even after all this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Out of all the Glee kids, Blaine is the most welcoming. After every class, I see him in the hallway and he always goes out of his way to talk to me or, if time is short and our encounter is fleeting, give me a glowing smile. The guys of the Glee club are afraid of me slightly – I guess I scare them a little – and the girls have not warmed up to me just yet. Blaine has always put his best foot forward when it comes to making me feel a part of this school and Glee.

It is my second week at McKinley and I have just left a Maths class. Although Maths is not my favourite subject, I have to put with it. I need good grade in all of my classes. Not to mention a spotless record. And now attendance of Glee club. Oh the joys.

I walk to my locker and open it, revealing a set of books and taped to the door is a picture of Freddie. I smile at him in all his glory, knowing fully well how strange I look grinning at a picture like some kind of idiot.

'Hey,' says a voice from behind me.

I turn to see Blaine standing there in his usual bow tie and sweater combination. He smiles at me and his brows furrow as he squints at the photograph of my beloved idol.

'Is that Freddie Mercury?' he asks.

I nod. 'Indeed it is.'

'You sure have a thing for him.'

I laugh, easily and naturally. It's not forced, not with Blaine. 'It's not a _thing_. He is my idol, my icon, my one true musical counterpart.'

He grins at me. 'Just a shame you can't duet with him.'

'Oh, I can. Never underestimate the magic of ITunes and many a Saturday night alone with the volume on full blast.'

Blaine laughs and watches as I close my locker and lean against it. 'How's your day going?'

'Okay,' I answer. 'You're kinda making it better though.'

'Really?' he says, raising an eyebrow, his grin growing bigger. 'How so?'

'You're the first friend I've made here. And by some stretch, you might be the only friend.'

He rolls his eyes. 'Don't talk like that, Callie.'

'It's true though,' I protest. 'None of the guys in Glee club like me.'

'They're just not accustomed to you yet,' he says encouragingly. 'They will. You'll see. And on a different yet related note, I have a surprise for you.'

'Got to tell you, Blaine, I'm not one for surprises.'

'Okay, just play along, please. Meet me in the auditorium after school today.'

He starts to walk away at this. I sigh in exasperation at this.

'Blaine!' I call after him.

'No time to explain,' he answers, grinning. 'I'll see you then. Don't let me down!'

He disappears amidst the crowd of students then as they are released from their classrooms. I groan to myself and trudge to my next class, my mind coming up with all sorts of answers to answer the question of what Blaine had in store for me.

* * *

At the end of the day, I do as Blaine instructed and went to the designated meeting place, informing Will of my trip and telling him that I would find my own way home. I enter the auditorium which is empty but fully lit with all of the lights illuminating the stage. I see Blaine sat on the very edge of the stage, looking at his phone. Once he sees me, he smiles again sweetly and gets to his feet in an agile way.

'Like it here?' he asks, gesturing to the auditorium as a whole. 'It's better than the choir room. More of an atmosphere, don't you think?'

'Yeah, it's pretty cool,' I agree as I make my way down the steps. 'Blaine, what am I doing here?'

'Come up here and I'll explain,' he says and offers me his hand to help me onto the stage. He takes me to the centre and we stand there, bathed in light and the glow of the auditorium. I look around and imagine it filled with people, cheering and applauding after I've finished a solo ...

I step back involuntarily and cross my arms as if barring myself from the memories I've induced. Blaine notices this and frowns, looking at me in a concerned manner.

'You okay?' he asks.

'Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine,' I lie. 'It's just ... It's hard.'

'What is?' Blaine says. He's easy to talk to and he doesn't pressure me into revealing the secrets that I've buried deep for so long. I feel like I can talk to him properly.

'Music,' I whisper. 'It used to be such a big part of my life and then ... it just died.'

'How come?'

'My dad ... he left when I was eight years old.'

Blaine's eyes widen slightly but other than that, he does not react. He simply absorbs the information and nods softly.

'He was a big part of your life, I'm guessing,' he murmurs.

'Yeah, he was,' I say, a tear threatening to roll down my cheek.

Blaine goes to me and takes my hand. 'Look, Callie, your dad leaving must have been terrible for you. I can't even imagine how hurt you must have been. But music, it's therapy. It can heal anything from a bad word to a broken heart.'

'You're sure about that?' I enquire.

'Yeah,' he says. 'Whenever I feel down, I just sing. Let out all of my emotions into a different kind of feeling. Music is what we use to express things that we can't put into words.'

I nod and do my best to smile at him. He has been nothing short of a friend in these few minutes alone. I can trust Blaine. But could I do the same for the thing that had once been a strong link between me and my father?

'I want to try something,' he says after a few deliberated seconds of silence. He goes to a stereo on the other end of the stage, hooked up to some speakers, and hands me a sheet. I look down and see the notes of a familiar song. A duet.

'You want me to sing with you?' I ask, somewhat speechless.

'Yeah, that's kinda why I chose a duet. I think our voices mesh well. Not that we've ever tried.'

'Blaine, I – '

'For me, Callie,' he says, giving me the puppy dog eyes look.

I roll my eyes at him and give in. 'Okay, okay. Just this once. And just because it's you.'

Blaine chuckles and rushes over to the stereo, hitting the play button. 'Well, that's good because it's a little sad to buy a backing track that nobody's going to use.'

The beat kicks in and Blaine looks at me earnestly to begin the duet that would undoubtedly cement our friendship. He is right – music can express things far better than mere words.

**Callie**

_Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
_

**Blaine**

_It's always a good time  
_

**Callie**

_Whoa-oh-oh-oh_

**Blaine**_  
It's always a good time  
Woke up on the right side of the bed  
What's up with this Prince song inside my head?  
Hands up if you're down to get down tonight  
'Cause it's always a good time  
Slept in all my clothes like I didn't care  
Hopped into a cab, take me anywhere  
I'm in if you're down to get down tonight  
'Cause it's always a good time  
_

**Callie**_  
Good morning and good night  
I'll wake up at twilight  
It's gonna be alright  
_

**Blaine**

_We don't even have to try  
It's always a good time  
_

**Callie and Blaine**_  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
It's always a good time  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
We don't even have to try, it's always a good time._

**Callie**

_Freaked out, dropped my phone in the pool again  
Checked out of my room, hit the ATM  
Let's hang out if you're down to get down tonight  
'Cause it's always a good time  
_

**Blaine**_  
Good morning and good night  
_

**Callie**

_I'll wake up at twilight  
_

**Callie and Blaine**

_It's gonna be alright  
_

**Blaine**

_We don't even have to try  
It's always a good time.  
_

**Callie and Blaine**_  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
It's always a good time  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
We don't even have to try, it's always a good time.  
_

**Blaine**_  
Doesn't matter when  
It's always a good time then  
_

**Callie**

_Doesn't matter where  
It's always a good time there  
_

**Blaine**_  
Doesn't matter when,  
It's always a good time then_

**Callie and Blaine**

_It's always a good time  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
It's always a good time  
Whoa-oh-oh-oh Whoa-oh-oh-oh  
We don't even have to try, it's always a good time_

As the song ends, Blaine and I gaze at each other and he takes my hand, smiling as I do.

'That was ... wow.'

'Beyond words,' I agree. 'You're right. Our voices do work well together.'

'You know what, Callie? I think this is the start of a wonderful musical partnership.'

'And friendship,' I add to his laughter.

It's starting to heal. I can feel it. The pain is still there, but diminished, barely noticeable. Music is healing the wounds from long ago.

* * *

The next day, I feel no need to be angry at the world. Music is healing me. I can see that now. But there is still one more thing that needs to be done.

I get to school early as Will does and I leave him to go about his teacherly duties or whatever he does first thing in the morning. More often than not, he goes to see Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counsellor with eyes like a bush baby and strange cleaning habits. He loves her, I see that as clear as the nose on my face. Their relationship is much more ... real than his previous one. And I'm not just saying that because I hated Terri. I did hate her, but that's because she was an evil witch, a fact that was made clear to me every single time I visited as a child.

I make my way to the auditorium and find it to be deserted. Perfect. I use the lighting rig and make it so that a single spotlight falls on me as I stand centre stage, facing an invisible audience. This is my time. Time to air out all my pain, my suffering, my hidden emotions. Feelings that I dare not reveal to anyone, not Will, not Blaine, anyone.

It does not matter that there is no music here. No piano. No band. Nothing. Just silence. All that matter are the words I say and the feelings I put behind them.

_I will not make the same mistakes that you did__  
__I will not let myself__  
__Cause my heart so much misery__  
__I will not break the way you did,__  
__You fell so hard__  
__I've learned the hard way__  
__To never let it get that far_

My thoughts go to my former life, the life with both of my parents. The happy times I shared with my father, spent singing, laughing, playing. I remember the way that after every song, every performance, he would lift me high into his arms and swing me around. There was no greater joy for me than that.

_Because of you_  
_I never stray too far from the sidewalk_  
_Because of you_  
_I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt_  
_Because of you_  
_I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me_  
_Because of you_  
_I am afraid_

The words resound clear as my mouth makes them out. I sing them perfectly well as though I've sung this song a thousand times. I haven't. I have heard it so many times but never had the courage to sing these words. Now, they ring true.

_I lose my way_  
_And it's not too long before you point it out_  
_I cannot cry_  
_Because I know that's weakness in your eyes_  
_I'm forced to fake_  
_A smile, a laugh everyday of my life_  
_My heart can't possibly break_  
_When it wasn't even whole to start with_

At the words 'every day of my life', a tear rolls down my cheek, but I carry on, singing even more passionately and loudly. I think back to my past, a journey I had never even dared to venture, not in so long. I think of the arguments I would hear from my room, the shouting matches between my mom and my dad. I never paid attention to the actual words, just the raised voices. The screaming. The yelling. I would hold onto my teddy bear and clamp my hands over my ears, wishing that it would end, that it would stop and we would go back to being a family again.

And now I relive it. I'm reliving the day he left.

I'm eight years old, dressed in pink pyjamas with some animated character adorned on the front. I go downstairs and find myself loitering at the bottom, hearing raised voices. I hear one lone sentence which still haunts me to this day.

'_I can't do this any more. I'm sorry_.'

I rush into the kitchen where my mom is sat at the table, sobbing and crying out for my dad. I turn to see the door slam shut. Despite the chilly morning weather, I rush out towards my father who is now getting into his car. As I run, I cry for him, beginning him to come back inside, to say sorry to Mommy and hug me, tell me it's going to be okay ...

'_Daddy! Where are you going? Dad? Daddy!'_

_I watched you die_  
_I heard you cry every night in your sleep_  
_I was so young_  
_You should have known better than to lean on me_

The car drives off. I stand there, screaming for him, sobbing now.

Why did he leave? Why did he go? Did he not want me anymore? Did he not love me?

I go back to the present. I'm crying now, as heavily as I did all those years ago, but I still continue. The tears do not hinder me. They make me go on.

_You never thought of anyone else_  
_You just saw your pain_  
_And now I cry in the middle of the night_  
_For the same damn thing_

I fall to the floor, overcome with emotion. My voice is softer now, barely breathing the words after that last note.

_Because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk  
Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt  
_

At the change in tempo, I find the strength to haul myself off the floor and continue, the original passion back in my voice and actions. All of the emotions come flooding back to me. Hate. Anger. Hurt. Pain.

_Because of you, I try my hardest just to forget everything  
Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in  
Because of you, I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty  
Because of you, I am afraid  
_

More tears roll down my cheeks as I glance at the auditorium once more. I imagine my dad sitting there. I want him to feel the pain I felt. I want him to reel at the hurt in my voice. My life was ruined because of what he had done. He had destroyed me.

_Because of you  
_

I try to regain my composure, but I can't. Fresh tears emerge from my eyes as I finish the song, softly and gently.

_Because of you._


	4. Chapter 4

It has been two weeks since I was forcibly inducted into the New Directions and this thought is at the forefront of my mind as I help Will make the dinner for this evening – spaghetti Bolognese. I drain the spaghetti and stir the mince in the pan a little as Will slices various vegetables to make his salad. He smiles at me as he adds a pinch of salt to the sauce.

'Look at us, cooking together,' he remarks.

'Well, it's either this or another take out and I've had enough of Chinese food to last me a lifetime.'

'A lifetime?' he says, raising an eyebrow.

I give in. 'Well, a month or so. You know my feelings about Chinese food. Food, in general, actually.'

Will chuckles and decides that the food is ready, serving it expertly with a bit of parsley on top like they do in restaurants. We sit down and tuck into the delicious Italian food, home-cooked and piping hot. Will looks at me for a few seconds, waiting for an opportune moment to start a conversation.

'How are you finding McKinley then, Callie?' he asks finally, after waiting for me to finish my third mouthful of spaghetti.

I nod, swallowing the food in my mouth and allowing myself to answer. 'I'm enjoying it, yeah. The work's okay, I'm getting there.'

'And Glee club? How are you finding that?'

I shrug my shoulders, trying to ease his away from the topic. 'Well, it's ... okay. I'm getting on with Blaine like a house on fire.'

'I've noticed. You two seem to be as thick as thieves. But what about the others?'

I deliberate with my answer and sigh, finally telling my godfather the truth. 'Not so much.'

'They just need an opportunity to warm up to you.'

'Will,' I say in a dead pan tone. 'Let's be frank. I'm not exactly the warmest person in the world.'

Will grins and shakes his head. 'I disagree. You are very warm. The Glee kids are usually so welcoming to newcomers ... '

'But I'm not so inviting, Will. They all went to be in that club voluntarily. I didn't.'

Will thinks for a moment and an idea forms in his head. 'Maybe you need to do what they do best.'

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. 'You're gonna have to be a bit more specific here, Will.'

'Find a song and direct a group number this week, with all the members.'

I almost spit out my food in surprise; once I've regained my dignity, I look at Will incredulously.

'Me, direct a group number? You can't be serious.'

'Never been more serious in my life,' he says firmly. 'Come on, Callie. You can pull this off.'

'Yeah, with the help of a miracle,' I remark. 'Will, how on earth can I do this?'

'You're smart and creative,' Will says. 'You'll think of something. Trust me.'

I know that this is the end of the conversation for now and despite the last two words, Will's plea to me, I feel like I have been given a Herculean task. How can I arrange a group number when I've barely communicated with the group in question?

* * *

The next morning, along with all of my classes, Will's task looms over me like the Grim Reaper. I pass my fellow members of New Directions in the halls and try my best to smile at them. I try and pursue them to talk to them, but they have other places to be, classes to go. I feel like I have been wandering around in a daze for the past two weeks; this fact is made even clearer as Blaine bangs on the door on the locker next to mine to announce his arrival and I jump out of my skin, dropping my books from my arms.

'Blaine!' I chastise him. 'What the hell ... '

'Sorry,' he apologizes, immediately kneeling to the floor and handing me my fallen books. 'You seem very tense today.'

'You're very observant today,' I mock him and wince at my tone as my only friend recoils at my remark. 'I'm sorry, Blaine. It's just ... I've got a problem.'

'You know what they say,' Blaine says, closing my locker door for me and linking my arm with his as we stroll down the hall. 'A problem shared is a problem halved.'

'Fine. Mr Schue wants me to direct and stage a group number this week.'

Blaine beams at me. 'Awesome. That's great news.'

'No, it's not,' I cut him off before he hugs me or congratulates me further. 'Blaine, how can I? No one in Glee club even speaks to me.' He raises his hand slowly, grinning, and I pull it down, half irritated, half amused. 'Aside from you, of course.'

'Maybe I can be of some assistance,' he offers. 'We can work together, with you taking the helm, obviously. I'll be like your assistant.'

'I'd really appreciate thatt, Blaine,' I thank him.

'Look who it is,' says a voice from in front of us. We turn simultaneously and see the hockey team, dressed in their sports gear and sporting the most awful haircuts I have ever seen in my whole life. The lead one, the first one who must have addressed us, holds a cup in his hand which Blaine eyes as though it is a live snake.

'Gee, Anderson,' the first hockey jock says, looking at me. 'Your boyfriend seems to be getting more girly every day.'

Blaine lunges forward, ready to defend Kurt, but I stop his admirable gesture and step in front of him.

'Blaine, no,' I hiss. 'Don't do something you'll regret.'

'I won't regret punching that grin right off his face,' he snarls directly at the first jock.

'Don't,' I warn him and give the jock a icy glare. 'Well, I see Neanderthals on parade is still popular at this time of year.'

The jock recoils as his buddies look shocked at my insult and glance at him, ready for some sort of retaliation. The first jock looks down at the cup in his hand and brings his head slowly back up to face me.

'My sources tell me that you're the newest member of Glee club. True?'

'True,' I bark. 'And proud to be.'

The jock winces dramatically and continues. 'Well, it's customary for you as part of the lowest ranking group in this school to have a Slushie facial to celebrate your induction into loserdom.'

I have no time to react. I try to duct but he is much faster and hurls the cup at me, the contents flying at my face. The green liquid hits me straight in the face, ice cold and painful. I stagger back from the shock, but Blaine is there to keep me on my feet as I am rendered blind by the ice. I hear the jocks' laughter and their heavy footfalls as they walk off. I bring my hands to my face and wipe the Slushie away from my eyes, which makes them sting agonizingly. Tears form in my eyes, caused by the ice, and I grip onto Blaine as the ice hits my head, making me dizzy.

'It's okay, Callie,' he soothes me. 'It's okay. Let's get you cleaned up.'

I nod wordlessly, breathless, trying to hold back tears of shame and humiliation instead of the tears of pain. Blaine all but carries me in the direction of the girls' bathroom, more determined than I have ever seen him. I hear a voice then, a familiar voice filled with concern.

'Blaine?' Kurt asks as he catches up with us at the door of the bathroom. 'What's wrong? Oh my God! Callie, you got Slushied!'

'It was those hockey idiots. I'm just going to get her cleaned up.'

'Here,' Kurt says, grabbing my free side. 'Let me help you.'

'Why would you help me?' I ask, unable to contain myself.

Kurt smiles and scraps a large bit of ice from my forehead. 'Because we've all felt the brunt of an ice cold Slushie in the face, even one time, self-inflicted.'

He opens the door and we go in, the three of us, to the girls' bathroom. Kurt barks at the girls in there to leave immediately which they do without question. They take one look at me and leave. I feel like the green has made a sign of me. Glee club loser here.

'Blaine, you're new at this,' Kurt tells his boyfriend. 'Stand back and guard the door. Make sure no one comes in here. We have serious work to do here.'

'Callie,' Blaine says, holding my hand. 'Are you okay now?'

'I'm fine,' I speak for the first time in what feels like ages. 'Don't worry about me.'

Blaine nods and leaves us to stand outside the door. Kurt smiles after him and runs the hot water tap, bundling up a bunch of paper towels and dabbing my face. It stings around my eyes and I wince, grinding my teeth together.

'Painful, huh?' he notices. 'Been there. The stinging goes after a while though. However, it's going to take a while for your skin to get back to normal as it appears to have been tinged green.'

'I'm green?' I groan and look in the mirror; Kurt wasn't kidding and I turn around, leaning against the sink. 'Well, at least I bear some similarity to Elphaba, I suppose.'

Kurt stops dabbing my face and looks at me, impressed. 'Theatre buff?'

'You sound surprised. Do I not strike you as the kind of girl who likes musicals?'

'Not really. I see you more as a rock chick than a theatre geek.'

'Rock chick?' I echo. 'I'd say I was more of a general music geek. Well, I _was_ ... '

I drift off as Kurt finishes up. I glance at my reflection and grimace at my slightly tinged skin, bits of ice still in my hair. I fish them out impatiently and turn to face Kurt who looks at me, smiling.

'Thank you,' I say gratefully.

'It's no problem,' he shrugs. 'I do believe that this is the first time we've actually spoken.'

I smile at him sadly. 'Sorry about that. I seem to be taking up more of your boyfriend's time than anyone else's. I need to find a way to ... '

My words melt away as an idea hits me. Kurt raises an eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at his lips.

'Kurt, Blaine tells me you know your fair share on costumes.'

'I do indeed,' he says. 'Why?'

I grin at him, an idea forming in my head like wildfire. 'I'm gonna need outfits. Lots of outfits.'

* * *

'What are you doing here?' is Santana's query as I stroll down the auditorium steps towards her. I grin, having expected this reaction when I intruded on her private practise time that Blaine and an absentminded Brittany had let slip.

'I wanted to talk to you, Santana,' I say as I go down to the stage to meet the cheerleader who is sat on the piano stool, a stereo next to her, sheets of music strewn around her.

'What about, Suzi Quatro?' she says in a snarky voice, turning back to the sheet on her lap that she had been annotating.

'Mr Schue has assigned me a group number to do and – '

'Favouritism at its best. I have one of the best voices in the club, but I always get shot out of the water by Little Miss Yentl and the Warbler.'

I stand next to her, crossing my arms, staring straight into her eyes so that she can't avoid me. 'Santana, this group number was assigned to me so that I could get to know you guys.'

'You know us, don't you?'

'Not really,' I admit.

'I thought you were buddies with Blaine.'

'I am, but everyone else hasn't exactly been as welcoming as Blaine.'

Santana squirms uncomfortably in her seat. 'Look, I'd love to show you the social order here and tell me that not everyone gets along, but I have stuff to do here, so you can show your little behind out.'

I glance at the sheet of music in her hand and notice the title scrawled across the top.

'Diamonds?'

Santana nods. 'By Rihanna. I've been working on it for a little while, perfecting it, working out new tones ... '

I grin at her. 'I feel a 'but' coming ... '

Santana smirks and lets out an almost chuckle. 'Yeah, you're right. I just ... I feel that something's missing. Something's needed to make it ... '

I finish it for her then. ' ... shine.'

She smiles up at me and heaves a sigh. 'Maybe you could have a shot at it. Have you got a song sorted for your fabulous group number?' At the shake of my head, she hands the sheet to me with a smile. 'Well, maybe it will give you some inspiration.'

I nod at her, smiling myself, and look over the music once before an idea forms in my head, shining as bright as the title of the song gripped in my hand.

'Diamonds ... ' I murmur to myself and go to the piano, setting the sheet in front of me.

'What are you doing?' Santana echoes her earlier question, watching me with a raised eyebrow.

'Making it shine,' I respond.

I look down at the keys and my fingers find the right notes as if they had been waiting for what seemed like a lifetime to play the ivories again. I press the keys down and make the first note of the song before allowing the words to float in the air as I sing them.

**Callie**

Shine bright like a diamond  
Shine bright like a diamond

Santana senses that I have an idea and she presses a button on the stereo which starts up a drum beat, backing up the melodies of the piano as I carry on with the lyrics.

**Callie**

_Find light in the beautiful sea  
I choose to be happy  
You and I, you and I  
We're like diamonds in the sky_

_You're a shooting star I see_  
_A vision of ecstasy_  
_When you hold me, I'm alive_  
_We're like diamonds in the sky_

I look meaningfully at Santana who closes her eyes for a split second and her voice joins mine in a glorious union.

**Santana**

_I knew that we'd become one right away  
Oh, right away  
At first sight I felt the energy of sun rays  
I saw the life inside your eyes  
_

**Callie**  
_So shine bright tonight, you and I  
We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky  
_

**Santana**

_Eye to eye, so alive  
We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky_

**Callie**

_Shine bright like a diamond  
_

**Santana**

_Shine bright like a diamond  
_

**Callie**

_Shine bright like a diamond  
_

**Santana**

_We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky_

I then add my own addition to the mix as Santana's voice carries through the last line of the first song about the sparkling jewel.

**Callie**

_Diamonds are forever  
They are all I need to please me  
They can stimulate and tease me  
They won't leave in the night  
I've no fear that they might desert me  
_

I see Santana smiling out of the corner of my eye as she mulls the lyrics of the second song – the classic 'Diamonds are Forever' – and she continues with the first song.

**Santana**

So shine bright tonight, you and I

We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky

**Callie**

Diamonds are forever

**Santana**

Eye to eye, so alive

We're beautiful like diamonds in the sky

**Callie**

Diamonds are forever

**Santana**

Shine bright like a diamond

**Callie**

Forever, forever, forever

**Santana**

Shine bright like a diamond

**Callie**

Forever, forever, forever

**Callie and Santana**

Shine bright like a diamond

We finish beautifully on the last note and smile at each other, a newfound bond forming in our eyes and smiles.

'So,' Santana says, 'got any ideas?'

'I want to do a mash-up,' I say at last, 'but I don't know which songs to do.'

'Well, you can count on my help with the number. I'll get the guys together and we'll meet you here in the next rehearsal to go over what you want us to do.'

I am taken aback by this and I smile warmly at Santana, but I stop unexpectedly when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I withdraw it to see a text from Blaine, making my previous smile even bigger and brighter.

_Hey, Cal. Kurt is designing outfits as we speak and I've had a word with the guys – they seem onboard. See you later, troublemaker. _

Troublemaker.

_Troublemaker_.

Something in my brain clicks and I gather myself together, leaving Santana in a flurry.

'Santana, you get everyone together. I'll meet you all back here soon.'

'Where are you off to now?'

'Got to print out a few sheets ... '

* * *

At the end of the week, everything is ready, sorted, perfected. I have to admire Santana and her effectiveness; she got the girls together and made a plea on my behalf, causing them all to agree to partaking in my group number. They were a little more reluctant than the boys who needed a lot of persuasion from Blaine and thinly-veiled threats from Kurt.

I met with Will earlier and brought him to the auditorium. Now, I stand in the centre of the stage, dressed in the sparkly black dress that Kurt has had made, looking at him with anticipation and nerves.

'Mr. Schue, the group number I have choreographed this week is called the Troublemaker Mix. I've combined the songs 'Trouble' by Pink and 'Troublemaker' by the British sensation, Olly Murs. I've chosen these songs because ... well, they speak to me on a more personal level. I _am _a troublemaker, but I'm proud of it. It's who I am. I have my good moments and some bad ones too, but ... I have to be myself.'

Will nods and I cue the music, the other members of New Directions lining up in their positions on the stage. Some nod at me encouragingly and some smile as I wait in keenness for the first few beats to kick in.

**Artie**

You're a troublemaker, troublemaker

You ain't nothing but a troublemaker, girl

**Callie**

You think you're right  
But you were wrong  
You tried to take me  
But I knew all along  
You can take me  
For a ride  
I'm not a fool out  
So you better run and hide

**Blaine**

Trouble, troublemaker,

Yeah, that's your middle name

Oh, oh, oh

**Puck**

I know you're no good

But you're stuck in my brain

**Callie**

I'm trouble  
Yeah trouble now  
I'm trouble ya'll  
I got trouble in my town

**Callie and Santana**

I'm trouble  
Yeah trouble now  
I'm trouble ya'll  
I got trouble in my town

**Rachel**

It's like you're always there in the corners of my mind

**Finn**

I see a silhouette every time I close my eyes

**Blaine**

There must be poison in those finger tips of yours

**Kurt**

Cause I keep comin' back again for more

**Callie**

Trouble, troublemaker

Yeah, that's my middle name

You know I'm no good

But I'm stuck in your brain

And you wanna know

**Boys**

Why does it feel so good but hurt so bad?

**Girls**

I'm trouble ya'll

Yeah, trouble now

**Boys**

I say I'm done but then you pull me back

**Girls**

I'm trouble y'all

I got trouble in my town

**Boys**

I swear you're giving me a

**Callie**

Heart attack

**All**

Troublemaker, troublemaker

The music is brought to a close and there is silence, except for the rapid panting that is the consequence of the complex dance routine Brittany and Mike helped me devise. I look back at my godfather who winks at me silently first before rising to his feet in a rapturous standing ovation.


End file.
